Daddy
by Danja
Summary: Dinah searches for her father.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Birds of Prey, its characters, and concepts are the property of Warner Brothers, Tollin-Robbins Productions & DC Comics.

****

Daddy

Chapter One

* * *

Dinah emerged from the elevator carrying a large brown padded envelope.

"Order something?" asked Helena. Barbara was typing on her PC in the Clocktower.

Dinah looked at the return address on the front of the envelope. "It's from a law firm in Seattle," she said.

"Seattle?" Helena exclaimed. "Who do we know in Seattle?"

Dinah tore open the envelope, took out a sheaf of papers, and began to read silently. She then quickly laid the papers down onto the computer desk and glanced away, her face now a mask of grief and pain.

Barbara looked up from her PC and took note of the scene. "Dinah, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Can't read it," Dinah squeaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Barbara took the papers and began to read aloud:

"My beloved daughter:

I, Carolyn Drake Lance, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all of my worldly possessions to my daughter and sole next-of-kin, Dinah Laurel Lance." Barbara looked up from the papers. "This looks like a will," she said.

Dinah reached into the envelope, pulled out two sets of keys, and laid them on the desk. Barbara took note of the keys and continued to read:

"Enclosed please find keys to my home, car, and safety deposit box number 5150 located at the First National Bank of Seattle, 1318 State Street, Seattle, Washington."

"Canary was from Seattle?" asked Helena.

"That was her last known base of operations," Barbara replied. She thumbed through the rest of the papers. "The rest is a catalog of assets," she said. "Home, car, furniture, bank accounts … that sort of thing."

Dinah reached into the envelope once more, pulled out another sheet of paper, and examined it. "This is a copy of my birth certificate," she said as she showed it to Barbara.

Barbara took the birth certificate and examined it. "There appear to be two men listed under 'Father'," she said.

Dinah and Helena huddled around Barbara. There were indeed two men listed as Dinah's father: Oliver Queen … and a second person (whose name began with the letter "D") that was scratched out.

"Who's Oliver Queen?" asked Dinah.

"He was … one of us," Barbara replied. "He went by the name 'Green Arrow'."

_A superhero,_ Dinah thought. "Did you know him?"

Barbara shook her head. "Not personally," she said.

"Was he a meta?"

Barbara shook her head. "Not to my knowledge, no." She handed the birth certificate and the will back to Dinah. "He was a helluva shot with that bow and arrow of his … but as far as his being a meta was concerned, no."

Dinah looked at the birth certificate once more. _Who's Mr. "D"? _she thought. _Why is his name scratched out? Is he my _REAL_ father? _She put the keys and the documents back in the envelope. "I'm gonna go put this stuff away," she said. Barbara nodded as Dinah turned and walked towards the elevator.

* * *

Dinah lay in her bunk, examining the birth certificate over and over again. _Who _IS_ this "Mr. D"?_ she wondered_. Why would my mother keep him from me? _She stared off into space, lost in thought. _Is _HE_ the source of my meta powers? _It was then that she made a decision. _It's summer vacation … no time like the present._

* * *

"Miss Barbara! Miss Barbara!" exclaimed Alfred as he rushed into the Comm Center, carrying a note. It was now the next morning.

Barbara looked up from her PC and turned towards him. "What is it, Alfred?" she inquired.

"I'm afraid that I have some most disturbing news," said Alfred. "Our Miss Dinah has run away," he said as he gave the note to Barbara.

"Where did you find this?" asked Barbara.

"I found it lying on the kitchen counter, Madam."

Barbara took the note and read it silently to herself:

__

Dear Barbara, Helena, and Alfred:

I appreciate everything you've done for me.

I have to find my father -- my health may depend upon it.

Barbara, Helena: I'm going to be OK. You two taught me everything I know.

Alfred: Thank you for everything. You're one of the sweetest people I know.

I don't know when or if I'll be back. There's a large piece missing from my life. I can't rest until I find some answers.

I love you all.

Dinah

"Thank you, Alfred," said Barbara. "I'll take over from here."

* * *

Helena's bony hand sleepily reached out from under the covers, turned on the desk lamp that sat atop the nightstand that was next to her bed, and picked up the ringing telephone that sat next to the desk lamp.

"ello?" Helena mumbled drowsily into the receiver.

"Helena?" said Barbara at the other end of the line. "It's Barbara."

"It's early…"

"Are you up for a trip to Seattle?"

"What's in Seattle?"

"Dinah's run away," said Barbara. "She left a note saying she's gone to find her father."

"_WHAT?!_" Helena exclaimed, wide awake now.

"I don't think she knows what she's getting herself into."

"Explain…"

"Canary X'd his name out on Dinah's birth certificate for a reason," said Barbara. "She clearly did _NOT_ want her to have a relationship with him."

"So you think the guy's pond scum…"

"I prefer the term 'unsavory'," said Barbara. "I have a feeling that Dinah's first stop is going to be Canary's old stomping ground in Seattle."

_Good girl likes a bad, bad boy,_ Helena thought. "How fast can you get me out there?"

"I can have a Wayne plane gassed and ready for you in two hours," Barbara replied. "There'll be a car waiting for you at Seattle-Tacoma Executive Airpark."

"I'm on my way."

"One more thing," said Barbara. "Bring Huntress with you."


	2. Chapter Two

****

Chapter Two

* * *

Seven hours and a dirt-cheap red-eye flight from New Gotham to Seattle later, Dinah was in Seattle. After a thirty-minute cab ride from Seattle-Tacoma International Airport (or SeaTac, as it's known locally), Dinah was at her mother's house.

The house itself was a modest ranch-style home situated on a quiet tree-lined street near the heart of the city. It was all Dinah could do to keep her hand from shaking as she turned the key in the lock. _My mother walked here, _she thought. The lights were useless; the utilities had long since been cut off after Carolyn Lance's death. _How was my mother able to afford this house? _Dinah wondered as she walked through the front door. She opened the gym bag that she was carrying, took out a small flashlight, turned it on, and locked and closed the door.

Carolyn's furniture -- sofa, coffee table, chair, etc. -- was draped in clear plastic dropcloths; Carolyn's lawyers (who were the executors of the estate) had been reluctant to sell anything until Dinah -- the heir -- had been found. Dinah removed the dropcloth from the sofa and sat down. _My mother sat here, _she thought. Since dawn had yet to break over the city, Dinah took off her shoes, lay down on the sofa, and went to sleep.

* * *

"I am _SO_ not a morning person," Helena whined over the comm. It was now mid-morning in Seattle. She was wearing blue jeans, a white T-shirt, black hi-top sneakers, and a pair of Trinity-style sunglasses. She was driving a late model Pontiac (a Wayne Enterprises company car) en route from Seattle-Tacoma Executive Airpark (after having arrived there via a Wayne Enterprises Learjet) to Carolyn Lance's house.

"It's jet lag," said Oracle on the other end of the line. "It'll pass."

"I'm not used to this."

"Used to what?"

"For starters … working days," said Helena. "That … and driving."

"I need you to keep a low profile," said Oracle. "The people of Seattle aren't used to seeing someone leap from rooftop to rooftop in broad daylight."

"I hope you realize this is gonna screw up my bio-rhythm _BIG TIME_."

"I need you there to watch over Dinah."

"Look … don't get me wrong," said Helena. "I care too. If she's gotta face scumbags, I wanna be there." Helena paused. "And what's this business about her health?"

"That's what _I'D_ like to know," said Oracle quietly.

* * *

The mid-morning light pouring through the windows, Dinah set to work on exploring the rest of the house. She walked into her mother's bedroom and opened the closet door. _My mother's clothes, _she thought. She then walked over to the dresser and ran her fingers along the top of it (It -- like the bed and the rest of the furniture in the room -- was covered by a clear plastic dropcloth). _My mother lived here … slept here._

* * *

"1603 Thrushcross Drive," said Helena as she slowly drove past Carolyn Lance's house. "Looks like this is the place."

"According to Carolyn's DMV record, that should have been her most recent address," said Oracle over the comm.

Helena came to a stop four houses away from Carolyn's. "What're you doing?" Oracle inquired, wondering about Helena's seemingly bizarre behavior.

"I don't want Dinah to see me … at least not yet," said Helena.

* * *

Flashlight in hand, Dinah walked into the garage and opened the garage door. She removed the silver-gray cloth cover that was draped over Carolyn's car -- a late model forest-green Chrysler convertible.

* * *

From her position four houses down, Helena noted the open garage door at Carolyn Lance's house. "She's home," said Helena. With all the stealth of The Huntress, she got out of the car -- taking care not to slam the door -- and slowly made her way towards the house.

* * *

Dinah stood next to the driver's side door, running her palm along the door of the convertible, admiring it.

"Nice car," said a voice -- Helena's -- from the driveway.

Dinah turned towards the voice with a start. Helena was standing in the garage doorway, half-in/half-out of the light.

"Helena!" Dinah exclaimed. "What're you doing here?"

"Oracle sent me," said Helena. "What's this business about your health?"

"You wanna know?"

"Yeah."

Dinah sighed. "What's this thing I have inside me?" she asked.

"I don't understand," said Helena. "What ... 'thing'?"

"Do you remember that day in the training room? The day my PK first came out?"

"Yeah."

"It scared the hell outta me," said Dinah. "What else do I have inside me, waiting to come out?"

"So you think your father has all the powers that you possess … but your mother _lacks_?"

"How would _YOU_ explain it?" asked Dinah. "My mother had the Canary Cry … and that was about it."

Dinah noticed Helena touching her earring. _Oracle is speaking, _she thought. "Has it ever occurred to you," said Helena. "That you might've inherited more from your mother's side of the family than you realize?"

"What do you mean?"

Helena touched her earring once more. "Metahuman abilities … are no different than any other inherited traits," said Helena, repeating Oracle's words. "Depending upon whether the gene is dominant or recessive, they can lie dormant in one generation … while expressing themselves in another."

"So what you're saying is … my mother may have been a carrier for a whole slew of metahuman traits?" Dinah asked.

Helena touched her earring. "There _IS_ that possibility, yes," said Helena.

"My health is only one reason," said Dinah.

"What else is there?" asked Helena.

"As it stands, half my family tree is a blank," said Dinah. "Say what you will about Mr. Wayne, you know your father…"

"No, I _DON'T_ know my father," said Helena. "I never have."

"You know his _NAME_," said Dinah. "You know _THAT_ much, at least."

"True."

"Helena, Oracle … I'm begging you," Dinah pleaded. "Don't deny that to _ME_."

"I don't think you know what you're getting into."

"Explain."

"Canary X'd your father's name off your birth certificate for a reason," said Helena. "It's obvious that she did _NOT_ want you to have a relationship with him."

"What was wrong with him?"

"You might say he was … _unsavory_."

" 'Unsavory', how?"

"In all likelihood, he was one of her underworld contacts," said Helena. "I guess she figured he'd be a bad influence on you."

"I've gotta find him," said Dinah.

"You sure?"

"God only knows what he's carrying."

"At least let us help!"

"I was trying to avoid involving you."

"Dinah, we're a team," said Helena. "We're _ALREADY_ involved!"

"You_ really_ wanna help?"

"We know you," said Helena. "We take you back to New Gotham, you're gonna be back here the first chance you get." She paused. "Let's deal with this."

"What about Leonard? And your sweeps?"

"I told Leonard my sister had a medical emergency," said Helena. "And as for my sweeps … it's not as if the bad guys are going anywhere," she said with a smile.

"All right," said Dinah resignedly. "If you insist."

"Great," said Helena. "We'll set up here…"

"_NO!_" Dinah interjected.

"No?" countered Helena. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"It's not my house."

"Waddya mean 'it's not your house'?" Helena interjected. "Your mother left it to you!"

"It'll never be my house," said Dinah quietly. "I feel her presence." She paused. "I can't walk through the place without being reminded ... of _HER_."

"It's all right," said Oracle over the comm. "Bruce has a private suite at the Edgewater Hotel near the waterfront. You two can set up there."

"You're kidding…" said Helena to Oracle.

"No, I'm not," said Oracle. "One … Wayne Enterprises has operations in Seattle. Two … Bruce often goes fishing off Vancouver Island."

"All right … we'll do it there."

"I'll let the front desk know you're coming."

"You're in luck," said Helena to Dinah. "My … father … has a private hotel room down near the waterfront. We can set up there."


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: This was NOT an easy chapter to write. I hope you enjoy it. : )

I'm sorry for the late update. I've been ill recently.

****

Chapter Three

Later that afternoon, Helena and Dinah were in the offices of Nash, Rickey, and Cole -- attorneys-at-law and executors of the estate of Carolyn Lance.

Philip Nash -- a portly, owlish-looking man in his early fifties with a receding gray hairline, jowls, a bulbous nose, and a double chin -- sat at his heavy oak desk across from Helena and Dinah, peering through a pair of thick black-framed half-bifocals over a sheaf of legal documents.

"Birth certificate … driver's license … everything seems to be in order here," he said. 

"Just out of curiosity, how much is the estate worth?" asked Dinah.

"The estate is in a blind trust," said Mr. Nash. "I'm not at liberty to reveal an exact figure."

"Without being too specific, how large is it?" 

"It's … quite large."

"How large is … _large?_"

Mr. Nash took off his eyeglasses, took a handkerchief out of his shirt pocket, and wiped the lenses of his glasses. "I believe Ms. Lance can be safely characterized as … a wealthy woman," he said. 

All of the color suddenly drained from Dinah's face. "I need to go outside," she said.

"Of course, Miss Lance," said Mr. Nash. Dinah then rose from her seat, walked towards the office door, opened it, and left the room.

********************************

Dinah stood in the hallway outside Nash's office and leaned with her back against the wall, arms folded across her chest. Her hands were tucked underneath her armpits. She stared down at the floor and wore a pensive expression on her face.

The door to Nash's office opened and Helena walked out. "Hey," she said to Dinah as she shut the door behind her.

Dinah looked up at Helena. "Hey," she said softly in reply.

Helena took a place alongside Dinah and leaned with her back against the wall. "You've been named heir to the estate of a complete and total stranger," she said. "I know how that is … believe me."

"Don' wan' her money," Dinah muttered inaudibly.

"What?"

"I don't want her money," said Dinah, only louder.

"What do you mean 'you don't want her money'?" Helena asked incredulously. 

"Where was her money … when my foster parents were abusing me?" Dinah interjected bitterly, glaring at Helena. "Where was her money … when I was alone?" Dinah then turned her head away, trying to hide the tears that forming in her eyes.

"Yeah," said Helena softly. "I hear ya'." Helena paused. "Some things money can't buy."

"Arms to hold you," said Dinah mournfully. "Soft lips … to kiss you."

Helena put a hand on Dinah's shoulder. "You're not alone anymore," she said quietly. She then asked, "Sure you wanna go through with this? You look like you're in a lotta pain."

"I have to," said Dinah. "I told you … I have to know what's inside of me. I have to know what I'm carrying."

Helena nodded. "Come on," she said, gently clapping Dinah's shoulder. "Let's go back inside." 

********************************************************* 

"Sooo … where do we begin finding these characters?" said Helena into her comm. She and Dinah were in the Wayne suite at the Edgewater Hotel. After _MUCH_ cajoling on Helena's part, Dinah had been persuaded to wear her comm set (Helena had brought it to Seattle with her -- on Oracle's orders).

"We might start by looking for a list of Canary's underworld contacts -- a 'little black book', if you will," said Oracle in reply over the comm. 

"Where do we find this 'little black book'?" 

"If the underworld knew these people were talking to the Black Canary, their lives would have been in danger," said Oracle. "It stands to reason that she would've kept it in a _VERY_ secure location."

"There was a safety deposit box mentioned in the will," said Dinah. "We might want to check there."

"We'll do it in the morning," said Helena.

"Guys," said Dinah. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused."

"Your health concerns are legitimate," said Oracle. "There is much about your metahuman abilities that we do not know. We don't even know the full extent of them." Oracle paused. "I'm hoping that this trip will provide answers for all three of us."

__

Poor kid, Helena thought._ I can't imagine what she's going through. My God … waking up with a new superpower. Sounds like something outta _ALIEN.

"One question," asked Dinah. "What did my mother … do for a living? I mean, how did she earn the money … to buy the house?"

"Canary was a bounty hunter," Oracle said flatly.

"I see…"

"What can I say? That was how she paid the light bill." Oracle paused in reflection for a moment. "She was one of the best." She paused once again. "She was very good at what she did. She brought in a lot of high-priced perps: terrorists, drug dealers, arms smugglers, megalomaniacal dictators hell-bent on world domination … you name it, she brought `em in.

"What your mother told you … was true," said Oracle solemnly. "Hers was a hard, brutal, business. She rolled the dice for every dollar that she earned." Oracle paused. "She wasn't crazy … and she wasn't stupid. At the same time, the risk was always there."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I just wanted you to appreciate what your mother had to go through to accumulate that estate," said Oracle. "I wouldn't be so quick … to throw it away."

"I can't accept it," said Dinah. "I just … can't. I can't forget her being gone … for all those years. If she thinks she can just … buy her way … back into my life, she's got another thing coming."

"I doubt that was her intention," said Oracle. "No one's _ASKING_ you to forget. For that matter, no one's asking you to decide right now. In fact, I'd strongly advise against it."

"I'll think about it," said Dinah. "And thank you … both of you… for your time … and your patience."


	4. Chapter Four

****

Chapter Four

* * *

__

Encrypted Journal Entry -- Barbara Gordon

June 22nd

As I suspected, Canary's list of underworld contacts (her "little black book" … or rather beige, in this case) was located in the safety deposit box that was stipulated in her will.

We've found three men with names beginning with the letter "D" listed in the book:

David Alan Blackman -- 47, reformed petty thief and con artist, lives in Kent. He now sells large appliances at Circuit City.

Donald Ray Stephenson -- 39, has priors for grand theft auto, racketeering, and assault with a deadly weapon in Texas and Louisiana. Owns an auto body shop in Seattle.

Dominic Michael Santore -- 42, Vice-President of a "waste management" firm, lives in Seattle. For some reason, the guy just screams "Mob" (And I'm not talking about his Italian name either). I seriously doubt Canary would've been interested in him had he not been connected to the underworld in some form or another.

* * *

"Please come in," said Mr. Blackman as he showed Helena and Dinah through the front door of his tiny apartment. He was a short, wiry, balding man with a large forehead, beady brown eyes, and a small, hawk-like nose. Helena -- in her full black-leather Huntress attire -- walked in first, carrying a small brown paper bag with the name "BLACKMAN" written on the outside in black Magic Marker. Dinah followed Helena inside.

"Thank you," said Helena as Mr. Blackman closed the door behind the two. The living room was spartan -- a tattered sofa up against one wall, a matching overstuffed chair next to it, a beat up coffee table in the center of the room, and an ancient TV up against the opposite wall.

"Please, sit down," said Mr. Blackman as he gestured towards the sofa. "Can I get you two anything … coffee, tea, ice water?"

Helena and Dinah each took a seat on the sofa. "Some ice water, please," said Dinah.

"Same here," said Helena.

Mr. Blackman walked into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later carrying two glasses of ice water. He set them down on the coffee table in front of Helena and Dinah and settled himself down in the overstuffed chair.

"As I said on the phone earlier, I don't have any money," said Mr. Blackman, fearful of being sued for back child support.

"I don't want your money," said Dinah. "As I said earlier, I'm here for medical reasons."

"Medical reasons, huh?" said Mr. Blackman. "What sort of 'medical reasons'?"

"I … see things," said Dinah. "Things that most people … aren't supposed to see." Dinah paused. "I'm convinced it's genetic."

"Yeah … me too."

"Really?"

"Drives me nuts!" Mr. Blackman exclaimed bitterly. "I pick up a can of stewed tomatoes off the shelf at the supermarket and I know that the last person who touched it three hours ago was a fat middle-aged black woman with gout and three screaming kids in tow!" He let out a low sigh. "I can hear people's thoughts. I touch a pretty girl on the arm, I know her past, present … and future." He buried his head in his hands. "I'm going insane!" he moaned.

"You're not insane," said Dinah quietly.

"Really?" said Mr. Blackman, lifting his head up in surprise.

Dinah smiled and nodded. "You're just like me," she said. "A metahuman … a telepath." Dinah paused. "I can't hear other people's thoughts, though."

"You haven't touched your water," said Mr. Blackman, cocking his head towards the untouched glasses of water.

"We're taught not to accept … drinks from … strangers," said Helena. "You never know what people … have put in them."

_In other words, you never know if they're drugged, _thought Mr. Blackman. "It's OK," he said. "I understand." He paused. "You never know about some people." He paused again. "Soooo … how're we gonna do this?"

Helena opened the paper bag, took out a pair of disposable rubber gloves, and put them on. "I'm gonna do a cheek swab inside your mouth," she said. "Our … supervisor … thinks that this is the most efficient means of collecting DNA short of a blood sample."

"I never did like needles," said Mr. Blackman. Helena stood up, took a couple of long surgical swabs out of the bag, and walked over to where Blackman was sitting. "Open your mouth, please," she said. Blackman complied, and Helena swabbed the inside of his mouth. That finished, she placed the swabs back inside the paper bag and sat once more on the couch.

"I hope this helps," said Mr. Blackman.

"It should answer … _SOME_ questions … at least," said Helena. She then turned to Dinah. "We really should be going," she said. "We've gotta prepare the next sample."

"One question," said Mr. Blackman. "How _DID_ you find out my phone number? It's unlisted."

Helena and Dinah rose to leave. "We have our … sources," said Helena.


	5. Chapter Five

****

Chapter Five

* * *

"So _YOU'RE_ the daughter of the Black Canary, huh?" said Mr. Stephenson.

Helena and Dinah were sitting in Donald Stephenson's dusty cramped office at Pacific Auto Body Shop. Assorted plaques, faded calendars, and several faded framed certificates hung on the walls around them. Mr. Stephenson sat with his feet up -- with the soles of his black work boots facing Helena and Dinah -- at his paper-strewn desk before them. He was a stocky man with receding combed-over dark brown hair.

"That's right," Dinah said flatly.

"Give me _ONE_ good reason why _I _should help _YOU_," snarled Mr. Stephenson. At this, the plaques, calendars, and certificates hanging on the walls began to tremble. "Bitch put me away for five years!"

"Canary did her best," said Helena. The plaques, calendars, and certificates on the walls ceased trembling. "The state had a case against you the size of Mt. Everest … there was only so much she could do." She then shot back, "And besides … you were facing_ fifteen_."

"It would mean so much to me," said Dinah. "It'll only take a few minutes." She paused. "It would go a long way towards filling in a large part of my family tree."

"You say that _NOW_," said Mr. Stephenson. "What's to stop you from coming back here and asking for money later on?"

"I don't _WANT_ your money," said Dinah, exasperated. "I've got money … I don't _NEED_ your money." She paused. "Please … it'll only take a few minutes."

"_NO!_" bellowed Stephenson. The plaques, calendars, and certificates hanging on the wall shook once more. "After what she did to me, I want nothing more to do with that filthy whore!"

"Why are the plaques on the walls shaking?" Dinah asked nervously. She already suspected the answer -- PK -- but another part of her wanted to hear it spoken aloud anyway.

"It's an earthquake," said Mr. Stephenson as the plaques, calendars, and certificates hanging on the wall ceased their shaking. "It's the Pacific Northwest. We get em all the time up here."

" 'An earthquake'," sneered Helena. "An earthquake that only happens when _you_ get angry." She rolled her eyes. "Uh-uh. It's PK, pal … and you're a meta."

"A _WHAT?!_"

"A metahuman," said Helena. "What's your problem?" She paused. "This is Seattle. If anything, I figured people like you would be marching in the streets!"

That was all Stephenson could take. He opened a desk drawer, pulled out a snub-nosed .38, and leveled it at Helena. The plaques, calendars, and certificates hanging on the wall shook once again. "Both of you have ten seconds to get the hell off my property."

Helena rose from her seat and raised her hands in the air in a gesture of pacification. "Hey, watch it with the pea shooter…"

"TEN!" Stephenson boomed, still leveling the gun at Helena.

Helena gently tapped Dinah on the back, urging her to leave. "C'mon," she said. "The sample isn't worth our lives."

Acting instinctively, Dinah stood up and let out an ear-splitting sonic scream -- The Canary Cry -- that sent Stephenson hurtling backwards against the wall. The now-dazed Stephenson dropped his arms down to his sides, letting the gun slip from his fingers.

Dinah gestured towards the small brown paper bag that sat at Helena's feet. "I'll get the sample, you watch the door," she said to Helena.


	6. Chapter Six

****

Chapter Six

* * *

"I loved your mother," said Dominic Santore. Helena and Dinah were sitting before Santore's heavy oak desk in his lavishly appointed office at Evergreen Environmental Corporation. Black and white marble tile covered the floor in a checkerboard pattern.

Santore himself wore a navy-blue double-breasted suit, a red silk tie, a gold Rolex watch, and a white shirt. He was stocky, pasty-faced, and had a shock of curly dark brown hair.

"That's the first kind word anyone has ever said about my mother since we've been here," said Dinah. "For that matter, that's the first time anyone has mentioned her at all."

"She was a good woman, she was," said Santore. "She had fire. She had passion. She was … indescribable." Santore paused. "She did us a favor, you know."

"How's that?" said Helena.

"Got rid of all the stupid people," said Santore. "Stupid people … they're bad for business."

"I'll bet you're one of the smart people, huh?"

"I like to think so," said Santore with a smile.

_That's what they ALL say_, thought Helena. "So … what do _YOU_ do?"

"I'm Vice-President of Operations," Santore said proudly.

"That's not what I meant."

Santore stared at Helena quizzically. "I don't understand."

"What my friend means is that my mother … liked to date … _metahumans_," interjected Dinah.

"Oh … _THAT_," said Santore. "It's nothin', really. I spose it makes for a nice trick to show to people at parties … but personally, _I'VE_ never found any use for it." Santore made a gap between the thumb and middle finger of his right hand. At his bidding, a bolt of blue-white lightning arced between his fingers.

Helena and Dinah could only stare wide-eyed at the mind-boggling display of power they'd just witnessed. After a long while, Dinah finally broke the silence. "Let's collect the sample," she said nervously.

* * *

"It's true what they say," said Dinah on the Wayne Enterprises Learjet back to New Gotham.

"What?" said Helena.

"Seattle is a _strange_ town," said Dinah, shaking her head in bemusement.


	7. Chapter Seven

****

Chapter Seven

* * *

"I have the results of the DNA tests," said Barbara, Helena and Dinah standing before her in the comm center. "Dinah, genetically … your closest match … is Donald Stephenson," she said, getting down to business.

Dinah gave a shy smile in reply. "You guys warned me that none of these guys were going to be choirboys," she said quietly.

"Sure we got the right guy?" Helena asked.

"The odds of two unrelated men sharing the same DNA profile are … astronomical," Barbara replied.

"I really appreciate everything you've done for me," said Dinah.

"I'm sorry that we weren't able to do more than that," said Barbara. "It would seem that the genetic Pandora's Box which contains whatever other metahuman abilities that you may possess … remains as locked as ever."

"Thanks anyway, guys," said Dinah. "I love you for caring."

* * *

Later on that day, Dinah was sitting on the ledge in front of the clock, staring off into space.

"Hey," said a voice -- Helena's -- to her left.

Dinah turned towards Helena. "Hey," Dinah said in reply.

Helena sat down next to Dinah. "Whatcha' thinkin' about?" Helena asked Dinah.

"My father was a psychopath," said Dinah. "Does this mean I'll be bad too?"

"Barbara taught me two things when I first moved in with her," said Helena. "First … no one is 'born bad'." Helena framed the words "born bad" with her index and middle fingers. "Everyone starts out life the same … a blank slate. What you do and where you go depends upon the choices you make. Which brings me to the second thing she taught me…" Helena paused. "Genes don't make criminals … choices do." Helena paused again. "People like Joker, Harley Quinn, Catwoman … your father … they did what they did because they made the decision to do so." Helena turned and faced Dinah. "Besides, there's something you keep forgetting," said Helena. "My mother was once one of Gotham City's worst criminals … and _I_ haven't gone bad yet," she said with a grin.

"So what you're saying is … I don't have to be bad … if I don't _want_ to be?"

"Exactly."

"Thanks," said Dinah. "I feel so much better now."

"You gonna take the inheritance?"

"The what?"

"Your mom's estate," said Helena. "You've still got an inheritance back in Seattle."

"I'll take it," said Dinah. "I dunno what I'll do with it yet … but I'll take it." She paused. "It's the least I can do ... for _her_."

THE END


End file.
